Pearl Trilogy: Shimmers Of Pearl Part 8
"Exactly, that's what I'd presumed. But no. She's as much in the dark as I am. That's why I'm beginning to think this mother emergency thing is a fig leaf of an excuse to keep seeing Laura."
"But what you told me the stuff Sally the dog walker said. It sounds as if he's miserable without you. None of this makes sense."
"Maybe he's miserable because he can't make a final choice and it's ripping him apart. I'm so glad you're here to protect me, Daisy, or I know what he'd do. He'd be at my door wooing me with kisses and flexing his huge great Weapon of Ma.s.s Destruction until I succ.u.mbed. He knows how weak I am, how I can't resist him.
"You're really hooked on him, aren't you?"
"I'm head over heels in love with him. I have never, ever felt like this about anybody."
"Are you going to let him know you're pregnant?"
"No. I want to know it's me he's choosing if he finally makes his mind up. If he knows there's a child involved he might come back to me just for that reason. It has to be me, and only me he wants."
"Did you tell Sophie about the baby?"
"No. I can't trust her not to tell him. You know how close they are."
"I wish I had a crystal ball, Pearl. I wish I could offer great advice but I've screwed up with you on more than one occasion. I was just as suspicious as you were about Sophie and if I'd kept my b.l.o.o.d.y mouth shut maybe you and Alexandre would be married by now."
"And what? Be divorced ten minutes later because of Laura? Having a ring on my finger probably wouldn't have changed a thing. Maybe he's like all those ex French presidents and aristocratic types who have a wife and also a mistress at the same time maybe that's what rich French men do."
Daisy frowns. "He didn't strike me as that sort. I still can't believe he's with her. I mean, he swears to you that he hasn't touched her why would he say that if it weren't true?"
"Because, as you know more than anyone, men can be very convincing. Listen, some women fall in love with serial killers and have no idea. I have obviously fallen for a pathological liar who can't keep it in his pants."
Chapter Six.
Alexandre felt as if he had been sliced in two. This whole situation was a f.u.c.king nightmare. He had never imagined that Laura could do this to him - have this hold on him just as everything seemed so perfect with Pearl. c.r.a.p timing - that was for sure.
He sat in his parked car, watching as snowflakes drifted across the windscreen... waiting, his heart pounding fast...with rage. He hadn't done anything like this for a long while; hadn't got into any fights for years because he knew what he was capable of. Anger and excess energy had been building up steadily over the past few weeks and this f.u.c.k was going to get it he deserved it. He'd show that f.u.c.k, once and for all, that you just can't go through life treating people like garbage, especially women. Jim was his name. Probably thought that, because he made a killing on Wall St, he was above it all. He needed to be taught a lesson.
Alexandre's eyes were fixed on the man's front door. It was still decorated with a crown of holly, the imposing white brick house boasting expensive Christmas lights; tasteful, not overly done. Must have cost a mint, this place; Mystic, Connecticut was not cheap. He imagined the man's wife and 2.2 children, perfect and with no clue to the monster that lived within their loved one. Alexandre wouldn't damage him, no. He wouldn't do that to a man with kids but he'd scare the living s.h.i.t out of him. Make him pay. In more ways than one.
He smiled to himself as it struck him that he'd never let onto Pearl that he was a black-belt master in Taekwondo. He hated people who boasted about their prowess at martial arts or sports. But after his father, he swore n.o.body would ever have the power to hurt him again physically. He remembered his teacher, Sophie's first serious boyfriend. He started to train her, and then Alexandre took an interest. The man was a real grand master, a genius; had been trained in Korea as a child. Alexandre remembered the mantra he had been taught, I shall be a champion of freedom and justice' and I shall build a more peaceful world.' Justice that's what he would set right tonight. And as for a more peaceful world, Alexandre would ensure that this f.u.c.k, Jim, made his contribution to help abused girls in need.
Alexandre noticed the front door open. f.u.c.k, there he was, that little s.h.i.t. Just seeing his enemy made the thigh muscles in Alexandre's leg twitch. Those legs that had been trained to kick like a weapon; break a concrete block in two even if he hardly trained anymore, it was second nature, his leg could fly up and smash any opponent in the head, knocking even the strongest man to the ground without even trying too hard. He'd have to control himself, though he could kill, just with his thumb on someone's pressure point. Peace before combat at all times except now, this b.a.s.t.a.r.d had it coming to him for nearly twenty years.
Alexandre briskly eyed his opponent's c.o.c.ky way of walking and could see straight away that he was brawny yes, he had a footballer's shape, but an ex-footballer who'd had too many lunches on his big fat banker's budget. Good, just as he'd been told the man was going out alone. His family would still be inside watching TV. His contact had told him as much, that Jim liked to go out to a particular bar down by the Seafront on Sat.u.r.day nights, usually coming home about ten thirty.
Alexandre watched as Jim got into his SUV and snailed out of the driveway. He waited a beat and when the vehicle was far enough ahead of him, he started his car and drove cautiously behind. He thought about people feeling repentant - how it was only possible to forgive someone when they were truly sorry for what they'd done. That's why his father had ended up dead because he could never admit culpability, could never say he was sorry. That's all it would have taken, that one word beginning with S to save his life but the s.h.i.t couldn't even say it.
So he'd ended up electrocuted in his bath, the electric appliance zapping him until his body's spasms jittered like a live wire. Finally, like a huge wet fish he lay silent, his reign of terror over for good.
Jim parked his car near the bar. Alexandre did the same and swiftly got out, calmly walking over. Luckily, n.o.body was around; a couple had just gone inside the bar. Alexandre stepped up beside his target, grabbed the man by the shoulders and stuck the pistol into his back.
The man tried to spin on his heel but he was locked in a vice. "What the f.u.c.k?"
Alexandre murmured quietly, "I've got a gun pointed right into your spine. If you don't do as I say, I'll pull the trigger and if you don't die you'll be paralyzed for life."
"Who the f.u.c.k are you?"
"Your shadow. Now get back into your car we're going for a little drive. Don't f.u.c.k with me, this gun has a silencer. I'll pull the trigger, walk you over to the water and throw you in. n.o.body knows I'm here, n.o.body has seen me. n.o.body will hear a thing. You'll be fish food."
The man flinched and swallowed hard. Alexandre could smell his fear, the man was a coward. Bullies are always cowards.
"Get in the car, Jim."
"How d'you know my name? You're accent...are you like...one of those Romanians, the guys from the mafia? Look, I already said I didn't want to do that deal-"
"Shut the f.u.c.k up, Jim, just get back into your vehicle. If you do as I say, I won't kill you. If you f.u.c.k with me, I will. You're driving by the way."
"You must have me mistaken for someone else."
Alexandre pushed the gun in his back a little harder. "I don't think so. It's payback time, buddy."
The man let himself be bundled into the driver's seat and panted with fear. He had tears in his eyes and sweat dripping from his brow. Alexandre carefully got into the back seat, keeping the gun pointed at his spine maintaining the pressure close so there was no doubt he meant business.
"You know, this country's gun control laws really need to be revised. Where I come from, you have to be part of a sporting club or a hunting club to get a gun license. They don't let any Tom, d.i.c.k or Harry go around with a.r.s.enals of lethal weapons."
The man stuttered, "Where are you from?"
Alexandre replied quietly, "That would be telling. Now start the car and drive."
"Where are we going?"
Alexandre's gloved hand pushed the weapon harder into the man's back making a dent in his cashmere overcoat. "Somewhere nice and quiet. Don't try anything smart, remember. This baby is still nuzzled right on your spinal cord.
Jim squeaked, "I swear I won't try a thing."
"So you live here just on weekends?"
"Weekends, holidays. I work in Manhattan."
"Yes, I know. You do well?"
"I'm proud of my capabilities, yes."
"Capabilities...hum, that could be disputed. How much money do you earn a month, Jim?" Alexandre already knew the answer to his question.
The man's breath hitched. "It depends. You know, on bonuses and stuff, but I make a good fifty grand a month."
"That's a lot of money."
"Yes, it is."
"It's how much I make every thirty minutes, more or less."
The man sn.i.g.g.e.red uneasily as if he thought Alexandre was joking. He wasn't.
Alexandre went on in a low voice, "I don't like people telling others how much money they earn; I think it's tacky. But I thought you might be interested so you understand who you're dealing with. So you understand that, not only could I have you killed at any moment, but right now, I have an alibi. I have three people who can testify I am not here now... with you. That is, should you get any smart ideas. Should you want to call the cops at a later date or tattle-tell on me. You see, I am way, way richer than you are. And you know what money buys, don't you, Jim?"
Jim nodded.
"It buys power," Alexandre whispered.
"What do you want from me?" the guy asked edgily.
"I want you to make a donation. Not much at all. I'm going to be really fair. All I ask is that you donate two month's salary."
Jim squealed, "I can't give you a hundred thousand dollars just like that! I don't even know who you are!"
Alexandre replied calmly "Oh, I think you can, Jim. Here's the thing. I'll make you a deal. You give me the names and phone numbers of all your rapist friends who were there that night when was it, yes, about eighteen years ago. All those a.s.sholes who violated a beautiful young woman called Jane Doe, and I will give you a ten percent discount."
"You're nuts. Completely nuts."
Alexandre poked the gun into the man's back even harder. "You're absolutely right. I'm so nuts, I'm capable of killing you."
"I can't even remember who was there."
"So you admit what you did?"
Jim wailed, "She wanted it, man. We were all drunk. She was asking for it. I can't even remember that far back."
"So all these years have gone by and you've never felt a drop of shame or remorse?"
"What would you have done? A naked chick with her legs splayed open...ouch, that hurts!"
Alexandre released the pressure of his middle knuckle just under the man's ear lobe and spat "Okay, your choice. A hundred and fifty thousand, then. Or you die here tonight."
"Okay, okay, I'll give you names and take the ninety grand discount option. How do I know you won't kill me anyway?"
"Because I'm a man of my word. And right now that's all you've got. I want the payment wired tomorrow."
"Tomorrow's Sunday," Jim squeaked, his voice like a terrified boy.
"I'll give you until Wednesday. If it doesn't arrive I will hunt you down, Jim, do you understand? You can hire bodyguards but I am a very patient man. I will wait quietly. Silently. You will never know when I might strike. It could be years from now, it could be days. Do you want to live that way? Constantly in fear?"
The man's breathy response was weak. "No."
"Do you want your wife and kids to know who you are, what you did?"
He shook his head pitifully. "Where am I to send the money?"
"To young girls who have been abused by men like you I'll give you the details. Men who thought their actions held no consequences. Now, pull the car over, right here."
They were on a remote beach miles from anywhere. With one hand still holding the pistol, Alexandre handed Jim a bit of paper with the bank account number of the charity he had set up. "Now, you have a choice. We are going to get out of the car. You can either strip naked and walk home in your bare feet in the snow or we can fight this out, man to man. Whichever you choose, the donation will go ahead as planned." Alexandre chuckled facetiously. "Hey, don't look so glum, it'll be tax deductable the fact I need you to make that donation means I'm not going to kill you now."
"You have a weapon!"
"I'll put the gun in the trunk of my car. We can fight it out weapon-free just using the tools that G.o.d gave us. Or, Jim, you can strip naked and walk home."
"I'd catch hypothermia, are you crazy?" The man began to wheeze.
"That's just what I thought you'd say."
"Give me a break, man!"
"Oh I am giving you a break. You'd already be dead if I weren't such a reasonable man."
"This is crazy. It was nearly twenty years ago. What kind of f.u.c.ked-up vendetta is this?"
"The Sicilian kind. You know, if you'd just said one simple word beginning with S and showed some kind of remorse, some kind of feeling for the woman you hurt, I would have felt so much more compa.s.sion for you."
"Jesus! I'm sorry, okay."
"Too late, Jim. I know what kind of person you are. The kind who thinks he's the master of the universe, the kind whose ego gets the best of him. Now find those numbers of your friends in your Smartphone and tell me their names and any extra details you have. Here, you can write them on this piece of paper." Alexandre got out a sc.r.a.p of paper and handed the man a pen from his coat pocket.
Jim was shaking uncontrollably but managed to scrawl down some names.
"If none of this makes sense, if these names are false or you happen to be playing any kind of game with me, remember, I know where you and your family live. I also have your New York address. I know where you work. I know everything about you, Jim. Give me your cell phone."
"Why?"
"I said we'd leave all weapons behind. I leave my gun, you leave your phone. Get out of the car...slowly."
Jim opened the car door and exited carefully. A gust of icy wind blew into the vehicle. It was crisp outside and pitch-black. Alexandre quickly got out, too; he noticed the man's large shoulders were shaking. "Hand me your phone," Alexandre said quietly. His breath was making steam in the frosty air.
Jim handed over his cell. Alexandre's black gloved hands took it and he proceeded to frisk him all over; just in case the guy had two phones, or even a gun or knife on him. But he was clean.
Alexandre said, "Now hand me over your car keys."
Jim obliged. Alexandre took the Smartphone, then threw it with the gun into the trunk, took off his long coat which he chucked over the back seat, closed the car doors, zapped them locked and pocketed the car keys. "We're both weapon-free now." He smiled.
"You still have my car keys, man!" Jim replied with a sneer.
"Come and get them. Come on, you're a big man - throw me one of your best punches and you can have it all. Me, the car keys, your car, your phone even the gun."
Jim eyed him suspiciously and rocked from one heavy foot to the other as if weighing up his options.
"Come on, you p.u.s.s.y," taunted Alexandre. "If you're the big, bad money-maker, Wall St. master of the universe footballer, come on! Show me what you're made of! Come and get me."